Elias leaned in. In a world where your very existence was a constant broadcast, silence was the ultimate felony.

The lights in his office didn't turn off; they simply ceased to acknowledge he was in the room. He reached for the door, but the smart-handle remained rigid, convinced the room was empty.

Elias Thorne, a "Latency Detective," sat in a darkened room pulsing with data streams. He didn't walk beats; he navigated echoes. "Pulse check," Elias muttered.

The criminal wasn't a man with a gun; it was a bureaucrat with a "Select All > Delete" command.

"Nothing is immutable if you’re the one who wrote the code."